


Dare to Hope

by LadyFogg



Series: Commission Fics [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Crush, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 04:31:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFogg/pseuds/LadyFogg
Summary: You’re an assistant in the AH Office, and though you’ve only been working there for a short time, you’ve developed a crush on one Ryan Haywood. And it seems the feeling may be mutual.





	Dare to Hope

 

When you applied for the assistant position, they never said who you would be assisting. Being a fan of Rooster Teeth for some time, you were honored to even receive a phone call. It wasn’t until you were sitting in the interview that you learned they were looking for help in the Achievement Hunter office. And by some divine miracle, you were chosen. 

That was a couple of months ago, and you still enjoy every minute of your new job. The idea for assistants was pitched as a way to cut down time between sessions, and so the guys wouldn’t have to get up while they are recording. Obviously having an assistant for each one would be a lot of people, so they hired you and someone else to split the room. You work for Jeremy, Michael, and Ryan, and your co-worker works for Geoff, Jack, and Gavin. 

True, it can be hectic at times. Running around gathering sodas, coffees, snacks, and other things keeps you on your feet. But most of your job involves avoiding shenanigans. Or participating in them. 

You’re pretty sure the guys’s favorite past-time is pitting you against the other assistant. Not that you mind, it’s incredibly fun and hilarious. Most of the time. All in all it’s probably the best job you’ve ever had in your life. The pay’s adequate, the work is easy, and the people are great. Well, a specific person is great. Well...Ryan. 

Ryan is really great. 

It had actually taken him a long time to ask you for anything. While Michael and Jeremy got used to having an assistant within the first week, Ryan didn’t and would often get things himself. 

“Haywood,” you would scold. “Stop doing my fucking job for me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m trying!” Ryan would exclaim among snickers and jokes from his friends. Eventually he got comfortable around you and started letting you handle the small things. 

Currently, he’s leaning back in his chair, thoughtfully chewing his lip as you enter the room. “What’s with the face?” you ask, coming to stand by his chair. 

“I was born with it, why?” Ryan teases. 

You roll your eyes, picking up the trash can by his feet and throwing away the food wrappers on his desk. “You’ve got your deep-in-thought face on,” you say. 

“Do I have a specific deep-in-thought face?” Ryan asks. “Huh.” 

“Yes, you do,” you say, checking the soda cans scattered in front of him. Several are empty and you drop them into the bin as well, making a mental note to recycle them later. “Your eyes get all narrowed and you chew your lip.”

Ryan regards you curiously. “Didn’t realize you paid that much attention to my face,” he says. 

Trying not to blush, you laugh. “I’ve been your assistant for months now,” you say. “I’m in here all the fucking time. Trust me, I pick up on things.” 

“What kinds of things?” 

The question is innocent enough, but there's a chance for it to lead down a path you’re not quite ready to walk. “Quit changing the subject,” you tell him. “What’s up?”

Ryan smirks and spins his chair around to face his computer. “Nothing, just trying to clean out my computer,” he says. “It’s going a little slow so I’m running some scans.” 

The door to the office opens and Michael strolls in, calling your name. 

“What is it, Jones?” you ask, putting the trash can down and taking out the bag. 

“Can you do a donut run?” Michael asks. “Lindsay has a massive craving and now I want some too.”

“Yeah sure, what kind do you want?” you ask. Tucking the bag of trash under your arm, you pull your car keys out of your hoodie. 

Michael hands you a piece of paper, along with cash. “Lindsay has a whole fucking list,” he says. 

Chuckling, you take the paper and tuck it into your pocket. “I’m on it!” you say enthusiastically. You turn around and playfully whack Ryan in the back of the head with the trash bag. “Ry, you want anything?”

“I’ll take some of those donuts actually,” Ryan says, as Michael moves to sit at his desk. 

“If there are any left after Lindsay and I destroy them, you’re more than welcome to have some,” Michael says. 

“Nah, I’ll get my own,” Ryan says, pulling out his wallet. “Don’t care about the flavors.” He hands you some bills and you slip them next to Michael’s money. 

“I love how Ryan’s just like, ‘I’ll get my own fucking donuts!’,” Michael laughs, putting his headphones on. 

“I’m not going to eat them all at once!” Ryan exclaims. “They should last a few hours at least.” 

“Yeah, sure, Ryan,” Michael teases. 

“Jones, leave him alone,” you scold. “If he wants a dozen donuts for himself, he’s allowed. That’s not the weirdest request you guys have ever asked for.” 

“Half a dozen,” Ryan corrects. “And I figured we’d share them.” 

That does seem to be a trend. In an effort to keep Ryan from snacking too much, you tend to split snacks with him to remove the temptation. Secretly, you love that you two have a special thing...even if it is something as mundane as sharing snacks. 

“Even better,” you say. “Alright, I’m off. Be back in a bit.” 

As you leave the room, you swear you hear Michael mutter, “You should just tell her, dude.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ryan denies. 

After throwing the trash away, you head to your car, brain mulling over what you heard. The entire drive to the bakery, you go over the possibilities of what Michael could mean. What should Ryan tell you? You don’t think you’re getting fired; it wouldn’t be Ryan who told you if that was the case. Plus, you’ve been doing a kick-ass job. At least, you’ve been trying. 

Of course, there is the wild thought that Ryan might have feelings for you. Not particularly confident in yourself, it takes you a long time to come to that conclusion. And though you’re sure that’s not the case, your brain can’t help but whisper,  _ “What if?” _

You spend a lot of time together. Out of everyone in the office, Ryan is the one you see and joke around with the most. He’s also the one who makes you feel most at ease. And okay yes, you have a massive crush on him. You can’t help it. But him having feelings for you seems like such an outlandish fantasy, you don’t dare believe it. 

So, you push Michael’s words out of your head and focus on getting those donuts. By the time you return to the office, they’ve started recording. You stop by Lindsay’s desk, and she does an excited jig as you hand her the box of sugary goodness. 

When you enter the main office, all hell is breaking loose. They’re playing GTA, and though you don’t know exactly what’s happening, you know there’s a lot of screaming and swearing. Even Ryan is freaking out as you place the box of donuts next to him, and drop a Diet Coke by his keyboard. 

“Ahh no!” he shouts, hands gripping the controller so tight his knuckles are white.

“Ryan, fucking shoot them back!” Michael screams. 

“I’m trying!” Ryan insists. “And now there are donuts and Coke, and I’m distracted!”

Geoff shouts your name. “Stop distracting him!” he says. 

“I literally just fucking walked in,” is your retort. “Guess I’ll just take the donuts away that  _ he fucking ordered!” _

“No! Leave them!” Ryan orders. “I can do both.” He tries to reach for one, only to snap his hand back to the controller. “Shit! That was close.” 

Sighing heavily, you flip the box open and tear one of the donuts in half. “Here,” you say, bringing it to his lips. Without hesitating, he opens, allowing you to shove the donut into his mouth. 

“She’s fucking feeding him the donut!” Michael laughs. 

“Ryan, are you really that desperate?” Jeremy asks. “I know she’s our assistant, but come on! Don’t make her feed you!”

Ryan’s mouth is too full of donut to answer. All that comes out are muffled words and crumbs. Finally, whatever danger they’re in passes, and Ryan is able to take a drink from his Diet Coke. “Hey, I needed refueling,” he says. Glancing up at you, he smiles. “Thanks.”

You give him a mock salute. “I live to serve,” you say. “Anyone need anything else before I go?”

A few requests are shot your way, and you leave to handle them. The entire time you’re gone, you can’t help but think of how easy it is to joke with Ryan, how comfortable. You’ve never felt this way with someone before. But as soon as the thought is there, your self-consciousness emerges, telling you to give it up. He’s just being nice. He only sees you as a co-worker. 

The more you tell yourself this, the more you feel yourself start to spiral into a mix of sadness and longing. You try to snap out of it, being as you’re at work and all. Now is not the time to pine for your friend. But you can’t help it and suddenly you don’t feel like being in a joking mood. When you go back to the room, you hand over the requested refreshments and head back out without another word, not sparing Ryan a glance because you know it’ll hurt. Seeing his smiling face when you’re feeling this way never helps. 

The next couple of hours are fairly uneventful after that. When it’s time for your break, you slip away to go for a walk. It’s nice outside and you need some time to be alone with your traitorous brain. 

You’re about halfway around the parking lot when you hear your name being called. Turning around, you’re surprised to see Ryan jogging to catch up. 

“Dude, I’m on my break, get your own Diet Coke,” you tease. 

Ryan laughs, falling in step with you. “Yes, I jogged all the way across the parking lot just to ask you for a Diet Coke,” he jokes back. “No, actually, I just wanted to see if you were okay.” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Ryan shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking,” he says. “When you came back from the last run, you seemed down.”

You’re a little stunned, not expecting him to notice. Especially since he had been in the middle of working. But he had noticed. And you can’t help that little spark of hope. 

“I’m fine, promise,” you say, smiling softly. 

Ryan studies you for a moment. “I don’t believe you,” he finally says. 

You raise your eyebrow. “I’m sorry?” 

“I don’t believe you’re fine,” Ryan repeats. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here, I care about…” He pauses, almost as if he’s catching himself from letting something slip. “...I don’t like the thought of you being sad.”

Your brain goes blank.  _ I care about you _ . That’s what he was going to say. But he changed his mind. He backpedaled, slightly. 

“I’m not sad,” you assure him. “Just...my brain is being dumb.” 

“Oh, that’s the worst,” Ryan says. “Overthinking, dwelling, or other.” 

You laugh softly. “A little bit of both and everything,” you admit. “Honestly, Ryan, I’m okay.”

Ryan seems more convinced this time and smiles. “Good.” 

You both fall into silence, still walking the parking lot. It doesn’t seem like either of you have a destination in mind, and that suits you just fine. It’s nice to get away from everyone else for a bit. And Ryan being there just makes it even better. The two of you rarely have a moment alone, and you desperately wish you could have more. 

“Hey, I have a question,” Ryan says after a few minutes of comfortable silence. 

“Yeah, I figured you were thinking about something,” you say. “You had that face.” 

“I guess I learned today that I have a lousy poker face,” Ryan grins. 

“You do, it’s horrible.” 

He laughs, the sound making you smile. “Good to know,” he says. “So, like...do you want to go out sometime?”

You freeze in place, body going cold but your face growing warm as you try to process his question. “I...what?” is all you manage to say. 

Ryan stops walking and turns to face you, shoulders hunched with tension. “Do you want to go out sometime?” he asks again. “With me? Not work related or anything. Like, date related. I mean, a date. Or…” He’s second guessing himself, worried about your reaction. 

“Are you serious?” you ask. He deflates a little and you realize how your tone came across. “I mean, yes, I would love to. If you’re serious that is. This isn’t a Shenanigans is it?”

“Oh god no!” Ryan says, eyes wide. “I would be the worst person in the world to do that. Who would joke like that?”

“You’d be surprised.” 

“Well, I’m not joking, or teasing,” Ryan assures you, taking a hesitant step closer. “I really like you, and I think we get along well. I want to see you outside of work, if you’re interested.” 

Laughing, your cheeks burn brighter and you run your hand through your hair, a nervous habit you can never quite break. “I already said yes,” you remind him. 

Ryan’s smile makes his face light up. “Oh yeah, you did, didn’t you?”

You both laugh again, one of those nervous, excited laughs where you’re unsure of what to do next. This is not how you expected your day to go. 

“So…” you say after a few seconds of awkward silence. “What did you have in mind? Date wise?”

“Dinner and a movie?” Ryan asks. 

“Ah, yes, a classic,” you grin. “Wise choice, Haywood.” 

“And very difficult to screw up,” Ryan adds, extending his hand. 

You take it and the two of you begin to walk back to the building. “I don’t know about that,” you tease. “You could pick the wrong restaurant, they could mess up our food, the movie could be horrible...the list goes on.” 

“Why? Why do you have to say those things? As if I wasn’t nervous already!” Ryan scolds, though he’s still smiling and you suspect that is not going to stop anytime soon. It definitely won’t for you. 

“Just keeping you on your toes, Haywood.” 

 


End file.
